


Bad Borg

by Lexus (Beautiful_Ruin)



Series: Bad Borg AU of the Bad Ensign Universe [1]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Bad Ensign, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:34:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21776098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautiful_Ruin/pseuds/Lexus
Summary: Seven overhears a discussion about Bad Ensign and makes a bet with most of the crew that she can beat Captain Janeway.
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway/Seven of Nine
Series: Bad Borg AU of the Bad Ensign Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570063
Comments: 10
Kudos: 48
Collections: Bad Ensign Stories





	Bad Borg

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Curator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curator/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Bad Ensign](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17604374) by [Curator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curator/pseuds/Curator). 



Seven of Nine did not do anything by half measures. There was a game she wanted to play, and the most challenging opponent would be Captain Janeway, so of course that is who she chose as her target. Her interest had been piqued a week prior when she overheard a conversation in the mess hall.

_“Oh, please,” B’Elanna Torres scoffed, throwing her head back. “There is no way you’re undefeated. You’re too much of a slut. The minute a girl put a hand on you you’d give in.”_

_“I… am… undefeated,” Tom insisted._

_“Undefeated at what?” Harry asked as he joined their table._

_“Bad Ensign,” B’Elanna snorted. “But he’s not undefeated. He’s lying.”_

_Harry chuckled. “Yeah, sorry Tom. There’s no way you could hold out.”_

_“What if I never played the captain?” Tom asked, raising an eyebrow._

_“So you think no one can resist you?” B’Elanna said disgustedly. “You’re lucky I love you or I’d drop your ass in a heartbeat.”_

_Tom snickered and Seven could not contain her curiosity. She walked over to stand at attention beside their table. “What is ‘Bad Ensign’?” she inquired._

_“Uhhhhhh,” Tom stuttered out, looking suddenly uncomfortable. He was not about to explain a sex game to their resident Borg._

_“It’s nothing, Seven, don’t worry about it,” B’Elanna said, waving a dismissive hand._

_“I wish to know,” Seven said, displeased._

_“It’s a sex game, Seven,” Harry finally relented._

_“How does one play?” Seven asked, undeterred._

Harry had been unable to resist her insistence and had ended up explaining the game to her in full. He had also told her he was uncertain whether she should be attempting to play. She found his statement discriminatory and had told him she could be as sexually cunning as any human on Voyager and that she would prove it by winning her very first round… against Captain Janeway.

Wagers had been made, most of them betting that the captain would call red alert as soon as Seven started the game. Seven bet on herself, and the odds were apparently so great that if she were to win, she would obtain enough replicator rations to avoid Neelix’s cooking for just short of a month.

In accordance with her ideals of perfection, she took it upon herself to behave poorly in the days preceding initiation of the game to give it an authenticity that she was certain other participants had been lacking. She was deliberately rude and unhelpful, she refused to attend any away missions, and she was currently sitting in cargo bay two when she should have reported for her duty shift.

“Seven of Nine to the bridge,” Janeway’s voice crackled over the comms.

She took her time complying, strolling casually onto the bridge five minutes later and leaning against the railing beside the captain’s chair. “How may I assist you, Captain?”

“You may report for your duty shift,” Janeway said incredulously.

Seven regarded the captain silently for a moment and then wrinkled her nose. “I don’t feel like it.”

“You don’t _feel_ like it?” Janeway seethed. “My ready room. Now.”

Seven made sure to throw Tom Paris a smug little smirk as she followed the captain.

Tom perked up, glancing over his shoulder at Harry.

Chakotay and Tuvok were the only ones on the bridge who had no idea what was going on.

Kathryn went to her replicator, instinctively knowing she would need some extra energy for this confrontation. “Coffee, black.” She took the mug and sat at her desk, leveling Seven with her best disapproving Captain glare. “What the hell is going on, Seven?” she asked, taking a sip of the steaming liquid.

Seven walked slowly over and sat on the edge of the desk opposite the captain’s chair. “I don’t know, Captain. I guess I’m just a bad Borg,” she said, watching the captain spit her coffee everywhere. “A bad, bad… very bad… Borg.”

Janeway shot out of her chair, the words ‘red alert’ on the tip of her tongue, but she wasn’t about to lose a game she wasn’t even going to play. She shouted at Seven instead. “WHAT?”

“I believe you heard me quite clearly, Captain, though I will repeat myself if necessary.”

“Seven, I am not playing this game with you,” Captain Janeway refused.

“You forfeit?”

“No! I can’t forfeit something I’m not playing.”

“You _are_ playing, Captain… I have initiated the game and in order to end it, you must participate or forfeit. I have performed extensive research on the regulations.”

Janeway tapped her comm badge. “Chakotay to my ready room! Or Tuvok, or Tom or Harry, Neelix, whoever’s closest, get in here now!”

“She didn’t call red alert,” Tom said, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“What?” Chakotay asked, jumping to his feet. “How—what—who told Seven about that game?”

Tuvok stiffened his already stiff posture. “I will not be going to the ready room.”

Chakotay cursed under his breath as he charged into the room.

Seven was amused. “Inviting an audience into the room does not excuse you, nor will it deter me,” she promised. She turned to Commander Chakotay. “Commander Chakotay, please inform the captain that cheating is not permitted.” She turned back to the captain. “It is also unbecoming of a Starfleet officer.”

“You’re not even in Starfleet!” Janeway yelled, feeling her twenty-nine/zero record slipping through her fingers. She looked at her first officer. “Chakotay!”

Chakotay wasn’t sure whether he found it funny, arousing, or frustrating. “I’m sorry, Captain, there’s nothing I can do. I didn’t create the game and I can’t modify its rules.”

“This is mutiny,” Janeway snapped, only half joking. “Dismissed.”

Chakotay had never been happier to leave the ready room.

Janeway was angry because she didn’t like to lose, and unless Seven was a terrible seductress, truly horrible, there was no way to resist that fucking woman. And the pressure was increased because the entire crew knew exactly what was going on. Whoever told Seven about Bad Ensign was going on report. She tried one last thing to get out of it. “You didn’t go to the academy, Seven. I don’t think you’re allowed to play.”

Seven’s lips twitched and she rose from the desk, walking around to stand in front of Captain Janeway, who had re-taken her seat. “I know you hate to lose, Captain. I also find the prospect of failure unsatisfactory.” She reached her left hand out and trailed a metal-tipped finger down the side of the captain’s face. “I apologize for my bad behavior,” she lied. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Janeway leaned back in her chair, away from the touch, her jaw clenched almost painfully. “Yes. You can get the hell out of my ready room.”

Seven was undeterred. “I had something else in mind, Captain.” She grabbed the back of the chair to hold it in place and seated herself on the captain’s lap.

 _Jesus Christ. Don’t react, Katie. You can do this. You’re a Bad Ensign veteran_. “Remove yourself from my lap at once. That’s an order, Borg.”

Seven grabbed a fistful of hair and put her lips to the captain’s ear. “Or what, Kathryn?”

 _Oh God. Ohhhh God_. “Or I’ll toss you in the brig.”

Seven laughed, but it wasn’t a nice sound. “I would walk right through your forcefield,” she purred, snaking her tongue out to trace the shell of the captain’s ear. She was surprised to find herself growing excited. She had expected this to be a purely competitive act, but touching the captain like this; talking to the captain like this… she could see why her crewmates enjoyed this dynamic. She felt intensely powerful, and for once it wasn’t due to her intellect or her physical prowess.

Kathryn tried to hide the shiver that ran through her and pushed at Seven’s shoulders. “Stop this at once, Borg. I am your superior officer and you will comply.”

“I will not comply,” Seven rallied, kissing her way along the captain’s jaw and licking the corner of her tightly pressed lips. “Open your mouth, Captain. I will give you what you wish…”

Kathryn turned her head away. “You know nothing of what I wish. Cease this activity immediately.”

Seven trailed a hand down over the front of the captain’s uniform, brushing the peak of one breast. “But your nipples are hard, Kathryn. Let me soothe the ache.”

“Purely reactionary,” Kathryn lied. “And the only thing you need to soothe is my anger.” Yes, her nipples were hard; aching. Her stomach was tight as a bowstring and her panties were soaked. She had Seven of Nine in her lap, kissing her and begging to be allowed to please her. And because of her damned competitiveness she couldn’t just let it happen.

Seven grabbed the collar of the captain’s turtleneck with both hands and tore in opposite directions, ripping it and the uniform jacket down the middle. Before she even really knew she was going to do it, her head ducked and she wrapped her lips around the captain’s right breast, tongue flicking the hardened bud of her nipple.

Kathryn couldn’t take it; she arched into Seven’s mouth, her hands going to the back of the Borg’s head to hold her in place.

Seven froze, realizing she’d just won the game. That presented a conundrum. Stop what she was doing and acknowledge her victory… or proceed with what she wanted to do but risk rejection. She decided the risk was too great. She removed herself from the captain’s lap and stood up, hands clasped behind her back. “Your resistance was exemplary, but did prove futile. If it is any consolation, I am quite aroused. I would like to replicate you dinner with my winnings.”

It took Kathryn a moment to sort herself out enough to pull her uniform closed and process what Seven had just said. “There are no winnings in this game,” she said with a tilt of her head.

“Officially, no. Unofficially, I have won a twenty-six and a half-day supply of replicator rations from the crew’s betting pool.”

Kathryn’s jaw dropped. She had no words. Until she did. “You _bet_ on this?” Her voice was low and dangerous.

“Yes,” Seven replied, still standing at attention. “This is unacceptable?”

“This entire day is unacceptable!”

“Captain, have I—” Seven stopped; regarded Captain Janeway’s body language. She moved forward and took blushing cheeks in her hands, her voice softer than she had ever spoken. “I thought it was a game. It seems I was mistaken.”

“It is a game,” Kathryn tried to explain. “But it’s a game that can make people feel incredibly exposed and vulnerable. Especially the captain of a starship. Having my sexual desires aired to my crew is intensely unsettling, Seven.”

“I am sorry, Captain,” Seven murmured, once more placing herself in the captain’s lap. “If you wish me to deceive the crew—”

“No,” Kathryn said, shaking her head, resting a hand on Seven’s back. “No. I’m a big girl. I can handle it. But thank you.”

“I was not aware of having sexual desires until I commenced this game,” Seven said bluntly. “I believe that if we were to reverse our roles and play the game again, you would easily achieve victory.”

“I’m going to kill whoever told you about this game,” Kathryn groaned, covering her face.

“Lieutenant Torres and Ensigns Kim and Paris.”

“Bad Ensigns, indeed,” Janeway sniffed. “Oh, and Seven?” she called as the Borg got up and headed for the door.

“Yes, Captain?”

“I’m confiscating your winnings. Gambling isn’t allowed on this ship.”

Seven quirked her cortical implant, seeking an appropriate reply. “Then I can only hope you choose to replicate _me_ dinner.” She stared at the captain for a few interminable seconds and then strode out the door.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Bad Drone](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21786226) by [Lexus (Beautiful_Ruin)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautiful_Ruin/pseuds/Lexus)




End file.
